


Sleeping Arrangements

by kyluxtrashcompactor, oorsprong



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fear of Discovery, Fluff, Groping, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Phasma Ships It, Sharing a Sleeping Bag, Teasing, bearded!Hux, darkside husbands, inexcusable fluff, kylo ren is shameless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:39:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6719050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyluxtrashcompactor/pseuds/kyluxtrashcompactor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/oorsprong/pseuds/oorsprong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ren shifts then, tucking his long arms between their flush bodies, and unfastening his pants, followed by a decidedly ungraceful and rather ridiculous wriggling as he slinks out of them, shoving them to the bottom of the sleeping bag in a bunch with his toes. Then he finds Hux’s pants beneath the hem of his shirt and begins to attempt to rid his husband of the garment in the same fashion. </p><p>“Ren,” Hux hisses, “have you lost your mind!?  We are not having sex in a sleeping bag in a crowded room!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

> This piece exists within the framework of the series [That Unsteady Afterglow](http://archiveofourown.org/series/400483) and as such uses its terms, timeline, and context. It can absolutely be enjoyed separately.

Ren wavers between annoyance and amusement as he strides past the other officers in the lounge they’ve been assigned to sleep in: annoyance at the fact that they’ve left their cabin and come back to the Leviathan to resume their normal duties, when he would rather have stayed planetside and grown a beard just like his husband. The idea of being a hermit had a strange appeal, though perhaps that’s the jedi training in him. He smirks at the thought and thinks it’s amusing that a ship as notable as the Leviathan has managed to develop such complications that all the higher ups are now having a slumber party in the officer’s lounge.

 

A supposedly routine maintenance check on life-support systems had resulted in a low dose of radiation flooding through most of the crew quarters.  No one had been hurt but it was anticipated to take at least a full day to run the necessary diagnostics and isolate the problem to prevent such a thing from happening again.

 

Hux is hovering behind him, and Ren can feel his husband’s eyes tracking the men and women unrolling sleeping bags and taking up positions of relative comfort about the room to get what rest they can in this awkward situation. Indeed, Phasma has just settled onto a couch in front of them.

 

The couch is flush to the wall, and Phasma is just beginning to unfasten her armor when Ren lifts a hand and shifts her couch to a ninety degree angle. The tug of the Force surprises her, but then she is glaring at Ren over the back of it.

 

“What in the hell, Ren?”

 

The knight smirks at her.  He indicates the newly formed nook he’s created between the corner of the room and back of the couch, and he tosses the double sleeping bag into the space.

 

“Thanks,” he says.

 

Phasma rolls her eyes and turns away, and Ren glances behind him at Hux.

 

“Well, now we have some privacy and a guard dog.”

 

“Fuck you, Lord Ren.” Phasma says cheerfully, making an obscene gesture for his benefit.

 

Hux glances between Phasma and his husband.  He’d like to make a crack about privacy being a non-essential luxury in such a situation but does not want to call any attention to what Ren’s just said because the thought of sharing a sleeping bag with the knight in a public setting is already making his ears burn.  They are surrounded by officers, many of them his own former subordinates, and it’s awkward enough returning not in his unofficial capacity as an adviser but merely as Ren’s spouse.  Rumors no doubt abound among all ranks of the crew.  General Fiiranza has graciously accepted his return in this capacity but he knows what they’re all thinking.  It’s what he would be thinking were the situation reversed.  Phasma may still respect and understand the difficulty of his situation here but to the others it’s as though Ren’s domesticated their former commander.  And that’s if they’re gracious behind their smirks.  There are undoubtedly officers who would whisper behind his back that Ren’s reduced him to the status of a fuck-toy.

 

In light of this there must not be the slightest hint of impropriety in the way they conduct themselves in public.

 

Ren’s smirk wavers, and then tucks into a frown, and Hux imagines that he has projected more of that negative sentiment than perhaps he meant to. The knight thinks of several things he’d like to say; that he’d crush the windpipe of anyone that spoke ill of Hux, that he is still the same man he was before he gave up his career for Ren, but Ren also knows that none of that will make a difference. It makes him sad, in a way, but he’s allowed himself by now to believe that it is both Hux’s true choice, and that it is out of a love that means more to him than a title ever could.

 

“Want me to sleep on top of the covers?” he asks dryly.

 

Hux reaches for Ren’s hand in the dim light and squeezes his fingers, letting him know in a gesture what he’d rather not say out-loud and doesn’t trust himself to get convey precisely through their bond.  It’s a mixture of _don’t be absurd_ and _I’m sorry_ and _I’m just nervous._

 

Ren’s momentary annoyance thaws.  He squeezes Hux’s hand in return. Leaning close he speaks softly in his husband’s ear: “Just pretend we’re on a beach somewhere. Or in a forest. Just us.”

 

“Mmm,” Hux murmurs by way of response.  He slides into the bag and tries to get comfortable, grateful now for the small cover that the couch affords him.  It will be warm, at least.  And assuming the problem gets fixed it’s only for a night.  He can endure anything for one night.

 

Ren considers simply shedding his robes in full view of the room, for he’s trained often enough in the gymnasium with nothing but his pants that it’s hardly anything new. However, he is astute enough to notice that Hux, who usually sleeps naked, has crawled into their sleeping bag with everything but his boots on.

 

Sighing, Ren toes his own boots off and crouches down to insert himself into the bag with his husband. He twists around to zip it up to their chins, and then decides to zip it all the way closed with the exception of a tiny release for air and heat.

 

Ren pulls his narrower husband to him with one arm and kisses his hair.

 

“Stop thinking about it,” he murmurs.

 

“It’s going to be too hot to sleep like this,” Hux whispers, leaning into the kiss and trying not to laugh despite himself.

 

“Well this way no can see us,” Ren says, reaching down to tweak the curve of Hux's cheek through his pants. “Or any of the terrible things they’re sure we’re getting up to in here.”

 

Ren shifts then, tucking his long arms between their flush bodies, and unfastening his pants, followed by a decidedly ungraceful and rather ridiculous wriggling as he slinks out of them, shoving them to the bottom of the sleeping bag in a bunch with his toes. Then he finds Hux’s pants beneath the hem of his shirt and begins to attempt to rid his husband of the garment in the same fashion.

 

“Ren,” Hux hisses, “have you lost your mind!?  We are not having sex in a sleeping bag in a crowded room!”

 

He unzips the bag a little and pokes his head out for a gulp of fresh air.  Ren is stiflingly hot and between his body heat and the layer of clothing Hux is wearing he’ll be sweating soon.  He glances around to see if anyone is looking their way and then rolls over so as not to give the appearance that there is anything untoward happening.

 

Ren vibrates with laughter as Hux flops over in the cramped space like a dying fish.

 

“Now I’ve got you just how I want you,” he mumbles against Hux’s back, and pulls Hux’s hips back hard against his. He is still playing with the elastic hem of Hux’s pants, tugging the drawstring loose, and then sliding his hand partially beneath, tickling ginger hairs.

 

Hux groans in frustration and pushes his pants down, kicking them off.

 

_“If anyone catches us like this…”_

 

He debates telling Ren to keep his hands to himself but there’s no harm in getting a little close as long as no one can see what they’re doing.  He’s grown too used to Ren’s attention every night.

 

_“At least keep your head above the covers, I am not about to let anyone think you’re sucking my dick in there.”_

 

Hux can feel Ren’s smile against his neck as he holds him close, unable to help himself as his hand drifts farther south to palm Hux’s semi-erect cock.

 

_“It’s not fair. I’m used to having you whenever I want you.”_

 

Indeed, their long weeks at the cabin are burned freshly into Ren’s memory: they’d hardly gotten out of bed after months of separation, and if Ren could have his way they’d still be there.

 

Hux rolls over, fully erect from Ren’s damnable teasing.

 

“You’re cruel to touch me like that when I can’t retaliate,” Hux murmurs against Ren’s cheek.  “It’s just one night.”

 

_“Can’t you keep your hands to yourself for one night?”_

 

He fastens his arms around Ren and presses his hard cock against Ren’s belly, showing him exactly what it’s doing to him.

 

 _“I could. But what fun would that be?”_ Ren skims a hand up Hux’s back, tickling along his spine with light fingers. He lowers his head to kiss Hux’s neck, already beading with sweat from the close quarters. He nuzzles the downy growth of beard that he realizes he’s become rather addicted to in a variety of ways both innocent and decidedly less so.

 

Hux sighs at Ren’s gentle attention and pulls the top of the bag up over them long enough to remove his shirt and push it down with the rest of their clothes.  He nibbles gently at his husband’s lips before pushing the cover back down again and settling against Ren’s body in the familiar way they sleep in their own bed.

 

_“Just don’t rile me up.”_

 

Ren lets go of Hux long enough to shrug out of his own shirt and discard it.  He pulls his husband back against him, wrapping one long leg over his narrow hips. Ren kisses Hux’s jawline, the hairs tickling his nose.

 

_“You should keep this. I’m in love with it.”_

 

Hux grins at that and impishly pushes his nose against Ren’s.

 

_“I’ll grow it for you again sometime.  I need to shave in the morning.  I don’t like standing out among the officers.  Enjoy it while you can.”_

 

Ren bites Hux’s bottom lip, sucking on it for a moment. _“I’ll tell you how I’d like to enjoy it. I know how flexible you can be.”_

 

 _“Didn’t you get enough of that on Kheel?”_  Hux fondly remembers Ren’s eager noises of appreciation when he tended to him certain places with the new sensation of the beard.  He grasps Ren’s own erection and tugs it sharply.

 

_“Tempting as the offer sounds I think that might draw some unwanted attention.”_

 

He strokes the inside of Ren’s thighs and snuggles back against him, relaxing into the other's warmth.  The temperature is finally perfect and he’s comfortable enough to get some rest.  The sounds in the room have died down to soft breaths with the heavy drag of sleep in them and a few snores.  Hux would worry about snoring himself but no doubt Ren will elbow him like he usually does.  


 

Ren lets out an audible gasp as Hux gropes him and bites down on Hux’s neck when his husband releases him to merely graze his thighs with a soft touch and settle in as though he’s actually going to sleep.

 

 _“They’re probably all fantasizing about it right now anyway,”_ he teases, his hand sliding back down Hux’s back to his ass, slipping between the crease to stroke that favorite spot with fingertips.

 

Hux’s only response is to bury his face in the crook of Ren’s neck, unable to contain his pleasure despite his concern at being found out.  He’d rather they were alone in their quarters but there’s something unbearably arousing at the thought of Ren being compelled to keep touching him as though all that matters to the knight is the feel of his skin under those large hands and petty concerns about his reputation don’t even enter into it.  It’s good that Hux has enough sensibility for both of them but just now he wants to soak up that attention as a sweet prelude to sleep.

 

Ren isn't particularly invested in his own reputation among the crew so long as they are too intimidated to say anything to his face, though he does care for Hux’s, and dislikes the idea that anyone thinks his husband is somehow any less than he was, or merely Ren’s plaything. If there were any truth to the notion it would be the other way around.  The knight sometimes fancies himself Hux’s force-sensitive pet that others fear and dare not cross.  He likes the idea of standing between the former General and anyone who might criticize him with his ‘saber in hand.

 

Ren decides not to torture his beloved overmuch, however, for his honor does matter to him, and instead uses his fingers to trace the contours of his husband’s thoroughly memorized body from the backs of his thighs to his shoulder blades. His touch is light, reverent.

 

_“I love you.”_

 

Hux pulls Ren tightly against him in an embrace, freely sending a potent reminder of his own helpless and enduring love back to the knight; wanting him to bask in the flow of feeling between them.

 

He reaches for Ren’s drawing-chain and hooks a finger around it as his lips find Ren’s shoulder again.

 

Ren purrs as Hux possessively touches his wedding gift; the symbol that Ren belongs to him. He bends his head and captures Hux’s lips in a deep, tongue-heavy kiss, and he has to forcefully stop himself from pushing his naked husband over on his back and straddling him, onlookers be damned.

 

“Don’t you dare,” Hux whispers, catching the thought.  But he’s smiling.

 

The clearing of a throat behind them has Hux stiffening in horror.  He turns to see Phasma peering over the back of her couch at them.

 

“You kiss loudly,” she mutters before settling back down out of sight.

 

Hux burns with embarrassment and presses his forehead to Ren’s chest with a groan.

 

Ren growls, and buries his face in Hux’s hair. “We have a lot to make up for tomorrow night,” he promises, hugging him close.

 

**

 

Despite the distractions Ren and Hux both manage to drift off into a sound sleep without making fools of themselves. They wake lazily, having shared some lingering shred of a dream together in which they were back at the cabin on Kheel, lying naked on a raft tethered to the lake, soaking in the sunlight without a care in the universe.

 

As the sounds of the crew begin to drift into their sleeping bag-- soft voices, the hiss of zippers, the rustle of blankets-- Hux and Ren find that it is much easier to get _undressed_ in such confines than it is to reacquire one’s clothing.

 

It is only when they’ve unzipped themselves from the bag and stood with their backs to each other that a guffaw of laughter causes them both to turn. It is Phasma, hovering behind the couch and donning the chestpiece of her armor.

 

“Would you look at the two of you,” she says, a half grin on her lips as she shakes her head.

 

Ren glances at Hux, and Hux glances at Ren.

 

The former general is now wearing Ren’s black shirt, oversized for his body, but deceptive, apparently, because it is on backwards. Ren has on Hux’s, and the mystery of why it seemed slightly too small is now solved: the jut of Ren’s hips is exposed beneath the hem and the low slung pants that hang unlaced.

 

Hux wonders if it’s possible to die of mortification but Ren merely chuckles.

 

“Jealousy isn’t a good look for you, Phasma.”  He rolls up the bag as Hux frantically adjusts the shirt so that it’s at least facing the right way.   

 

“Besides,” Ren adds, slinging the bag over his shoulder and an arm around his flushed and disheveled husband, “when you’re married you can wear each-other’s clothes.  That’s definitely part of it.”

  
Phasma’s laughter follows them out of the lounge and into the corridor.


End file.
